


Sleep. And Get Better.

by robinsword



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredible Hulk (Comics), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Hulk (Marvel), Sickfic, Smart Hulk (Marvel), Tenderness, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, sick thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinsword/pseuds/robinsword
Summary: For no particular reason, the idea that Thor could get sick had never crossed anyone's mind. But it turns out that it's not impossible. When Thor falls ill, he has two strong presences standing by.The Hulk shows his tender side as he soothes him into sleep and Bruce's voice is a balm for the suffering he faces when he wakes.---When his consciousness returns, the first thing he registers is the blanket that has been loosely thrown over him. It makes him feel much too warm but his body is so wracked with shivers that he understands the reasoning behind it.The second thing of note is that the firm, unyielding muscle beneath him is gone. Instead, it’s been replaced by the soft flesh of a smaller figure, who’s chest he seems to be lying on. He groans and a hand immediately slips into his hair, all five fingers this time, smaller than those of the Hulk’s.“... ‘M I not... crushing you?” Thor slurs through the haze. The chest under his head jiggles as the owner chuckles.





	Sleep. And Get Better.

**Author's Note:**

> I was kind of ill earlier so, in the spirit of projection, I was in the mood for a soft sick fic. And since there seems to be a slight unbalance in the number of fics where Hulk and Bruce take care of Thor...

“Thor?”

Thor spits some rubble out of his mouth and lifts his head up a few inches from off the ground. A few feet away from him stands Hulk.

“Thor.” he says again, sounding a little insistent. If Thor didn’t know better he’d say he sounds worried. Which he isn’t. Because he knows that Thor always gets up. And so Thor, in the spirit of getting up, raises a weak hand and waves him away, hoping that he’ll take the hint and return to the battle. After all, they need Hulk for this one.

“Don’t worry. I’ve had worse,” Thor says. It’s not quite the truth. He feels terrible, and the way his head is pounding makes it quite difficult to recall a time when he has had worse. But he won’t let that stop him, won’t even let Hulk get distracted with worrying about him. It’s just not something he deems important right now. Not when they’re in the middle of a battle. Not when people’s lives are at stake. Innocent people.

Hulk huffs through his nose, obviously unconvinced. The ground seems to shake under Thor as Hulk makes his way over to his side, kneeling down to inspect the fallen god up close. Thor barely manages to intercept the finger that goes to poke him in the side, catching it in his palm. Fortunately, Hulk doesn’t insist on carrying on (Thor doubts he’d be able to hold him off in his current state - which he’s now past the point of denying. The dark blots dancing across his vision are getting bigger by the second).

Without warning, Hulk retracts his hands, only to cup them a moment later and neatly scoop Thor up in his palms. The world spins and Hulk’s skin feels too hot. It had been a tough battle and even now Thor can feel sweat still dripping from his forehead, plastering his hair into thick strands. The added heat from the Hulk’s body just makes him all the more uncomfortable.

He wonders what’s happening to him.

He wonders why Hulk isn’t out there smashing their enemies.

“Battle over.” Thor feels Hulk’s chest rumble against his side as he speaks, and realises he'd voiced his concern out loud. How unusual…

“When did that happen?”

He doesn’t get an answer and at this point he doesn’t have the energy to ask again. Instead he just lets himself go limp, lulled by the rise and fall of each step that Hulk takes. It’s strange how acutely aware of Hulk’s steps he is right now.

It probably has something to do with the headache building behind his eyes. Which just so happen to be closed now, although Thor has no idea when that happened.

The swaying of Hulk’s movements comes to an abrupt halt.

“Thor sick.” he rumbles. His voice sounds quieter than usual. Which, Thor estimates, would make it a volume on a level equivalent to Bruce’s shouting voice. Well. At least he’s trying.

“No… I’m fine,” Thor says cracking his eyes open in order to behold Hulk’s face above him. He’s not looking at Thor, but rather something in front of him. Thor doesn’t have the energy to to turn his head and see what it is.

For a moment, so fast that Thor would have missed it if he blinked, he swears Hulk’s eyes flash a dark brown.

“Wasn’t a question,” he says, bluntly.

An absurd amount of amusement suddenly bubbles up in Thor’s chest and he wants to laugh. Or throw up.

His head hurts. His head _really_ hurts.

There’s a softer voice somewhere in front of them. Through his wavering consciousness, Thor works out that it must be whoever Hulk is looking at. And talking to.

The swaying starts again but Thor’s vision fades in and out until it’s completely black, and he misses a rather large chunk of the walk over to wherever Hulk is taking him.

When he opens his eyes, there’s a metal roof above them. Hulk is sat cross-legged by a wall with Thor still cradled in his lap. A single finger is poised on top of Thor’s forehead, as if feeling for a fever. When he sees Thor open his eyes, he removes it, instead using it to make light, soothing strokes - lighter than Thor thought was possible from a being of such power - through Thor’s hair.

“Hulk got you. Banner will help too.” He pulls Thor up to his chest, still stroking. “Sleep,” he commands. And then, almost as if as an afterthought, “And get better.”

Thor doesn’t have to be told twice. He smiles, raising his hand and patting Hulk’s chest in thanks, before promptly passing out again.

When his consciousness returns, the first thing he registers is the blanket that has been loosely thrown over him. It makes him feel much too warm but his body is so wracked with shivers that he understands the reasoning behind it.

The second thing of note is that the firm, unyielding muscle beneath him is gone. Instead, it’s been replaced by the soft flesh of a smaller figure, who’s chest he seems to be lying on. He groans and a hand immediately slips into his hair, all five fingers this time, smaller than those of the Hulk’s.

“... ‘M I not... crushing you?” Thor slurs through the haze. The chest under his head jiggles as the owner chuckles.

“Only a little. I just got back but I didn’t want to wake you.”

With an effort - and some assistance - Thor rolls over onto his side, removing himself from on top of Bruce so that he instead lies with only his head in Bruce’s lap. Bruce continues to make soothing strokes on his head, much in the same manner that Hulk did.

There’s a beat of peaceful silence before Bruce speaks up, voice soft.

“I thought you couldn’t get sick.”

“...never said that.”

There’s a low hum and the fingers stop for just a second, before continuing along with Bruce’s voice.

“I don’t know why I assumed. I guess you just seem so unphased by... pretty much everything. It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“That’s okay,” Thor mumbles, burying his face in Bruce’s soft thigh. The material on the special pants that Hulk and Bruce wear feels cool and silky against his warm cheeks. “Didn’t cross mine either.”

Bruce chuckles again. Thor finds the sound soothing, a balm against the burning sensation of the headache behind his eyes.

It doesn’t, however, stop the shiver that suddenly travels through him. He feels Bruce shift an arm, using it to pull up the blanket a little further so that it comes underneath Thor’s chin.

“...I’ve not been sick since I was a child,” Thor continues after a minute. His throat feels sore and his voice is gravelly, but he can’t seem to stop now that he’s begun. “My mother… she once stayed by my bedside for several days while I slept through a fever. When I woke... she had fixed all the tears in my cape and placed a pile of gifts at the foot of my bed. To cheer me up.” He sighs, tiredly, a sudden sense of loss overwhelming him. It comes and goes sometimes, tainting fond memories with the reminder of what he can never have again.

“Sounds a bit like my mom.” Bruce’s voice brings him back from the dark corner his mind had been straying into. “She used to sit with me in the hospital and read to me, sometimes.” Thor feels cool air on his face as Bruce sighs too.

Thor hums. “I once found a book by my bedside after waking up from a horrible injury. I think it was Loki.” A small smiles tugs at his lips.

“So he’s not all douchebag.”

“No,” Thor agrees. “Just mostly. It’s kind of a family trait.”

They both chuckle this time. It hurts but it’s worth it, he thinks, for the shared moment.

He doesn’t remember what happens next. Presumably he just passes out again, the energy it took to have the quiet conversation having been too much.

There are two more moments of brief lucidity after that.

The first sees him finally in a real bed. Through his eyelashes he can see a large, green shape besides him, which can only mean one thing.

“...okay?” He barely gets the word out but Hulk seems to understand what he’s asking.

“Everything okay. Thor not strong enough. Hulk here to help.”

_Oh. Thanks._

By the time the thought forms in his sluggish brain, he doesn’t have the chance to speak a word before he blacks out again.

The second awakening finds him in the same place. Just less uncomfortably hot. Which is counterintuitive, considering there’s now another person in the bed with him.

And who could it be other than Bruce?

Thor blinks his eyes open, squinting through his lashes. The room is dim, with curtains drawn and a single lamp lit in the corner. The two of them are lying on their sides, face to face, with Bruce’s arm wrapped around him. The moment Thor shows signs of consciousness, he sees the shadowy figure of Bruce lean in and press a kiss to his forehead, before settling his chin in Thor’s hair, which he murmurs into.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better. I think.” He presses his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder, breathing in deeply. He can smell sweat and lavender, an odd mixture of himself and the room they’re in. Bruce always keeps lavender in his room. Apparently it’s relaxing. It certainly seems to be right now. Or maybe that’s just what comes with Bruce.

“Thank you,” he says after a beat, when his last thought of his previous moment of lucidity comes back to him.

He feels Bruce nod and his fingers stroke a pattern in the nape of Thor’s neck.

“So we’ve got like, what? Five, six hundred years before we have to go through something like this again?” he says. Thor can hear the smile in his slightly muffled voice.

“Unless I’m very unlucky,” Thor replies and then smirks. “Or maybe not so unlucky. This is very nice.”

Bruce pulls away from him, holding him by both shoulders.

“Oh, you’re definitely getting better.”

“But not better yet?” Thor teases, somewhat hopefully.

There’s a beat as Bruce considers and then nods, pulling him back into the same embrace, once again making soothing strokes in Thor’s hair. It once again strikes Thor how similar it is to Hulk’s techniques of giving comfort.

“No.” Bruce says, pulling the covers tighter around them. “Not quite yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](https://asgardianbruce.tumblr.com/)


End file.
